Trials of Life
by Roselilia
Summary: From being homeless in the slums to becoming a slave, will Kuroko be able to find his happiness? AkaKuro. Au.


Edited by AoKazuSei

Rated: M (to be safe)

Warning: Eh not really much to warn about.

* * *

It was known by everyone that the kingdom of Rakuzan was the most powerful and idyllic of all the kingdoms. It was a peaceful place with prosperous towns full of happy people, "a heaven on earth".

No wars were ever started against the kingdom, allowing peace to reign free over the lands. Located by the sea with large ships to import and export, the kingdom had no need for other kingdom's products. The kingdom flourished beautifully, and it seemed untainted by anything.

Except, that wasn't true.

It was the age of slaves. Poor people were as abundant as the kingdom's wealth. The homeless were rampant through the city. Desolation, despair, and famine still very much existed for people who were unfortunate to be born into poor families. They all gathered in one area, dubbed the slums of the kingdom, a dark stain in an otherwise pure heaven.

This is the world that Kuroko Tetsuya was born into.

It wasn't an easy life, living in the slums. Food was hard to come by, meals never guaranteed. He spent his days in the town nearby, begging for money or food. Though, hardly anybody cared for a poor dirty orphan boy; they barely cast him a glance.

He had to resort to stealing in order to survive, something that wracked him with guilt, his conscience never letting him have peace. However, his will to live was stronger. He refused to die. Not like this.

He struggled to live, never knowing if he would see the light of the next day. He refused to fall victim to despair like the people around him. Giving up was not an option he would allow himself.

Yet, when the day came, he didn't have the strength to get up. His body, so terribly thin, had failed him. All he could do was weakly cough and stare at the blue sky which's color reflected in his own.

He was dying, and he felt himself descend to the depths of despair, all hope erased. He would die, and nobody would mourn him or even know that a little boy named Kuroko Tetsuya had lived. All he could do was wait for his final breath to leave his lips, all his strength to continue living gone.

Kuroko was just about to close his eyes and completely give into the darkness when his entire world was suddenly red. It was a brilliant shade of red, like that of fire or the blood.

At first, Kuroko thought he had died and gone to hell. That he was seeing the beginning of the fires that were so rumoured to dwell within its depths. Then, Kuroko's eyes managed to focus, and he realized he was looking at hair.

His eyes slowly drifted down into another pair of eyes, and in one of them, the same color haunted. However, the other one was different. While it wasn't the same shade, it reminded him of the sun, yellow and bright.

His eyes drifted even further without him meaning to. He wanted to continue looking at those fascinating eyes. Instead he drifted to chapped, almost bleeding, lips that moved, yet no sound reached Kuroko's ears.

Suddenly, he felt arms picking him up, and he was against a thin but strong chest. The world began to pass him by as he was carried off, and he softly sighed as his eyes slid closed.

He didn't drift off for very long though. He felt himself being lowered to the ground; it seemed softer than he remembered. The arms retreated, and Kuroko was beginning to drift off again when something was placed against his lips.

The arm lifted him up, so he was sitting. With his head tilted a bit, something warm and wet met his lips. Water.

Kuroko immediately parted his lips and greedily drank the water, moaning a little when he felt it fill his stomach. A few times the water was pulled away from him, giving him time to breath, but the water was always brought back.

Soon, he opened his eyes, his head feeling so much more clearly, his eyes able to see with more clarity. The first thing he saw was a light faded fabric above his head, fashioned like a tent, which surrounded him. Light still trickled in, the material light, but it was enough to abate the heat.

The next thing he saw was a boy, his age, looking down at him with concern. Kuroko reached out and touched the hair; it was the shade of red he had thought he imagined. It was soft despite the dirt that marred the brilliant crimson.

"Are you alright?" A deeper voice than his own asked. Kuroko sluggishly nodded but didn't try speaking quite yet. "Here."

Something else was pressed against his lips, but it was dry and hard. At first, Kuroko wanted to scoot away to see what it was, but since the boy hadn't harmed him yet, quite the opposite, Kuroko opened his mouth. He used his tongue to examine the odd thing and immediately recognized it as slightly stale bread.

He immediately took a bite from it and was about to swallow it when a firm hand gripped his jaw, startling him enough for him to stop. He looked up at the unique coloured eyes that looked down at him in confusion.

"Chew." Was the simple order that Kuroko couldn't refuse, and he obediently moved his jaw up and down. Compared to just being starved, this was its own torture. He wanted the food in his stomach as soon as possible, but he listened. The hand let go of his jaw, and Kuroko swallowed, feeling it slide down his throat and into his stomach.

He wanted to cry in joy when he was given another bite, and then another. The food kept coming even when he finished a piece of bread. His stomach was actually becoming full, and it was the best feeling Kuroko had ever felt.

"Th-thank yo-you." Kuroko whispered brokenly, feeling his strength slowly returned. The boy nodded as he made Kuroko sip some more water from a small basin beside him. Once that was done, he was lowered down on a pile of blankets, and he examined the boy as much as he could.

He was obviously like him, due to the rags that covered his slightly taller body. The sight almost felt wrong to Kuroko though. The boy exuded power and ferocity. It seemed wrong that he was covered in something so unworthy as dirty rags.

Kuroko tried to speak, to enquire more about his saviour to quench his curiosity, but the boy shook his head. A rough hand covered Kuroko's eyes, forcing them closed.

"Sleep. Questions can be answered later." The voice commanded, and Kuroko could do nothing but listen.

The next time he woke up, there was barely any light, just a soft colored hue that entered the thin material around him. He was alone, causing a small bubble of disappointment to hum inside of him. He coughed a little before he forced himself to sit up, a frown marring his pale face.

A small cup full of water and a small stale piece of bread was beside him, inviting him. Kuroko couldn't resist helping himself, the thirst and hunger inside him still haunting. His body certainly felt stronger once everything was consumed, so he took another cursory look around the tent.

There was a basin full of water he had seen earlier, a couple of sharp looking knives, and a small open chest that revealed a couple of pieces of bread. Kuroko felt the sinful urge to steal the rest of the bread; it was a habit that he refused to listen to. He refused to steal from the boy who saved his life.

The said boy entered the tent through a flap. Noticing that he was awake, his faint look of surprise was quickly wiped away. He deposited some more pieces of bread into the chest, closing it, before he turned to Kuroko.

"Akashi Seijuro." The boy said, and it took a long moment for Kuroko's slightly disoriented mind to realize that the boy had said his name. It was a strong powerful name that fitted the boy perfectly.

"Kuroko Tetsuya." Kuroko whispered, and the boy, Akashi, nodded. The redhead kneeled down beside Kuroko and studied him carefully.

"How are you feeling? Do you need more food or water?" The boy asked. Kuroko shook his head, refusing to take more than he already had.

"Why did you help me?" Kuroko asked softly, intrigued.

They did live in the slums after all. Nobody cared about each other. They only cared about themselves, and that was hard enough as is. So to be saved, to be given food and water so freely, surely there was a price to be paid.

"On a whim." Was all the boy uttered. Kuroko frowned once more, looking into Akashi's eyes, seeking deceit. He was greeted with no emotion in those eyes, so Kuroko decided to trust him. It wasn't like he had anything to lose anyway by trusting him.

It was the start of a new life for Kuroko Tetsuya.

He was still an orphan that resided in the slums of the kingdom, but now, he wasn't alone. In fact, it was almost wrong to use the word orphan, for he now acquired a new family. It wasn't just Akashi, who had allowed Kuroko to stay with him, but more boys his age.

There was Kise Ryouta who was like the sun, and it wasn't just because of his golden hair or eyes. He had a bright aura around him that was so rare to see in a place as dark as the slums. He never stopped talking and while that should have been annoying, it filled the air and shattered the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

Then, there was fierce warrior like Aomine Daiki. His skin was darker than everyone else's and his dark blue eyes were full of barely controlled wrath that struggled to be released. He reminded Kuroko of a panther with the grace he used to move and the power in which he exuded.

There was also Midorima, his hair and eyes the color of trees, which were a rarity to see. When Kuroko looked at him, sometimes it became easier to imagine a forest full of lush green trees. He was the strictest of them all. He had an uncaring attitude, but the way he fussed over them, everyone knew he cared.

Finally, there was Murasakibara who was as tall as his name. There was nothing to compare Murasakibara's hair or eyes to; Kuroko had never seen such a beautiful shade of color before except perhaps the scarves that women sometimes wore in the town. Murasakibara was the laziest of them all, sloth like in personality and movement. But looks can be deceiving though. Kuroko had seen him fight before, and he was a terrifying foe that could rival Aomine.

It wasn't a peaceful life, a life such as theirs could never be, but Kuroko was content. He spent almost every waking moment with Akashi who allowed it. Sometimes, Kuroko could tell he enjoyed it, although his emotions were locked away, as if they were some precious jewel to be protected.

But, there were times Akashi showed his emotions, and it was always directed at Kuroko and no one else. There was anger when someone from town had noticed Kuroko and tried to hurt him. There was worry, edged with panic, when Kuroko had gotten sick. There were vulnerable moments when Akashi woke up from a nightmare and softened his eyes once he looked at Kuroko, eyes almost tender.

The moments were rare, but Kuroko remembered and treasured each and every moment.

Sometimes, Kuroko was even able to initiate physical contact with Akashi after a long day of stealing for food. It was nothing ever big, usually something as small as holding hands. It gave Kuroko strength to touch someone as powerful as Akashi who almost didn't seemed fazed by the harshness of their world. He was the beacon of strength to all: resolute and powerful.

However, Kuroko also knew Akashi wasn't without weakness. There were times when his eyes darkened, the brightness dimming, as he looked over the slums. Such as the moment they were in now, standing over a dead body of a child.

Kuroko looked at Akashi worriedly, the redhead seeming to be lost in his own mind, his eyes dimming a little. Perhaps, he was worried that one day, it would be the body of someone he cares about; perhaps he was losing the frail hope that they all tried to hold on to.

Kuroko didn't know. He didn't ask. He held Akashi's slightly larger, rougher, hands with his own. It took a moment, but Akashi's attention shifted from the body to Kuroko who smiled a little at him. A little bit of light returned to Akashi's eyes, but it wasn't enough for Kuroko.

With a bit of courage and strength inside him, Kuroko stepped closer and pressed his chapped lips against Akashi's. It was something he had seen couples around town do when they were in love, and it seemed fitting to do it to Akashi.

Light blazed in Akashi's eyes, darkness obliterated, and the lips pressed back against his own. Warm strong arms encircled Kuroko, bringing him flush against Akashi's stronger, more muscled, body.

Kuroko returned the favour, wrapping his more slender arms around Akashi neck, trying to prolong the kiss for as long as he could. For the first time since they were born into their miserable desolate lives, they felt free.

Once they broke apart, their lives resumed, both returning back to reality.

That moment changed many things of course. Akashi freely touched him more: a hand brushing the back of his own, fingers lingering against his when passed something, sometimes, rarely, the press of lips against his temple.

Simplistic actions, but they lit a light inside of Kuroko who always returned the action with a smile. Excluding the small miniscule moments of physical contact, nothing else changed for them during the day.

They still went into towns to steal food or money with their makeshift family. They still wandered around the slums to pass the time, trying to spread hope and strength to the little kids they saw.

It was night when things changed the most dramatically. At night was when they were bare and vulnerable, exploring each other's bodies, and learning things about each other that only the other was allowed to know.

It was there that Kuroko truly felt that he could grasp the concept of love and pleasure: when Akashi was on top of him, moving in and out of him with gentle caring movements of his hips. When he looked up with lust glazed eyes, he was finally able to see the soft vulnerable eyes that were filled with pleasure amongst all the emotion he tried so hard to hide during the day.

The best moment though was after sex, when they laid against each other, basking in post coital bliss. Kuroko would curl up against Akashi, revelling in the feeling of their sweaty skin touching. Their legs would be tangled, and Akashi's warm hands would stroke his back almost soothingly. Words usually kept unsaid would slip past their lips with ease.

Then, they would slowly drift off into sleep, dreams of red and blue twining, and then, they would wake to repeat their monotonous days.

Kuroko found himself thinking sometimes, that if the rest of his life was like this, he would be content. However, life was never fair, and once more his life changed.

The kingdom had gotten tired of the black little stain that marred its pure white surface and decided to take action.

The day had started out the same as usual. Akashi and Kuroko had awoken in a pile of tangled limbs, both sharing a small smile, Akashi's more reserved of course, and a small chaste kiss.

"I want you to be careful today." Akashi said as he pulled on rags that barely covered his toned body. Kuroko blinked in surprise at the warning as he pulled on his own threadbare cloting. Still, he nodded obediently, knowing better than to go against anything Akashi said.

"Is something going to happen?" Kuroko asked softly. He took note of the troubled look in Akashi's eyes.

"I'm unsure." Akashi said, irritation coloring his voice. "However, I sense something bad in the air. Something bad will happen today."

It was said with such surety that Kuroko believed him even when no proof was to be found. So, he lightly touched Akashi's arm, the action enough to make the redhead stop his movements, and he kissed rough lips with his own.

Akashi surprisingly reciprocated the action with more enthusiasm than usual. His rough palms cupped Kuroko's smooth cheeks, and he deepened the kiss. It weakened Kuroko's body, and he clung onto Akashi's body almost desperately, soft muffled moans leaving his mouth.

For long moments, they remained like that, not wanting to stop. Had they known what would happen later that day, perhaps they wouldn't have. As it was, they pulled apart and left the tent to begin their day.

It started off as usual, the two of them wandering through town, stealing what they could without being greedy. Akashi had surprised him with a small piece of candy, something that was hard to come by. Kuroko had relished it, sucking on it in his mouth, revelling the sweet sugary taste.

He had then looped his arms around Akashi's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, his tongue touching Akashi's, so he could taste his own prize as well. It was a bold move; they were out in public after all, and the sun was high in the sky, but surprisingly, Akashi had allowed it.

It was a wonderful morning.

Akashi and Kuroko headed back to the slums, a couple of fruit hidden in the sleeves of the dirty rags they wore. They held each other's hands loosely. Akashi's eyes were sharper than usual, often scanning the area, his guard up.

It put Kuroko on edge as well, but there was nothing he could do but prepare himself for the worst. Even though he was mentally prepared, he still felt a small sense of security; that whatever happened, at least Akashi would be beside him, his fire paving a path to run down.

They were welcome back by screams and chaos. Tents were alight with blazing hot fire, people were screaming, and blood covered the ground as guards on horses rampaged through their home.

The horses they were on were huge, bred in case of a war that would never come, their steel metal seemingly penetrable. The capes attached to their soldiers had the Rakuzan symbol and colors on display for all to see as they fluttered in the wind.

Their sharp metal swords turned red as they slayed the old people of the slums and captured everyone else, killing anybody who desisted.

"Hide." Was all Akashi uttered as he took out small thin daggers he kept on him at all times. His eyes were ablaze with pure fury and strength. His face contorted as he readied himself for battle: a demon in the middle of carnage not his own.

Kuroko didn't listen to Akashi, although he did step back behind a small hill to watch him, wanting to help but knowing it would be unwelcome. Not that he would be able to make a contribution anyway.

There were many guards, but Akashi was strong, and he was fast. He felled the horses first with his dagger, the beasts useless against him, while he danced away from the swords that tried to stab him. It was a beautiful dance with fluid moves but with devastating outcomes.

The guards began fighting Akashi who managed to fight them off with his daggers. The guards had armour that protected them, but it slowed them down, made them clumsy. Akashi was much faster, attacking like a snake.

He also knew where to attack, where the armours weakness was, and he began to kill the guards, making it seem easy. Maybe to him, it was easy. He certainly didn't have any hesitancy on shedding blood; he was a warrior in a child's body.

Other people began to fight back as well when they saw the small child managing to kill the guards. It gave them hope since, surely, they, who were bigger and older, could do the same. The surviving people of the slums rioted back, fighting with all they had, and Kuroko began to think they could win.

It had been a foolish, foolish hope. How could they, the little people of a dark stain, win against the kingdom's will? More guards came. They overwhelmed even Akashi who still fought even then, refusing to back down.

The time began to freeze. Kuroko saw it before Akashi had. He saw the glint of steel plunging towards his back. The man's eyes resolute and grim. Kuroko screamed when the metal slid into Akashi's back smoothly, coming out the other side.

Kuroko could only stare in horror, standing up from his hiding spot, as Akashi's face contorted in pain, his mouth open in a silent scream. The sword was torn out of his body, Akashi's precious blood staining it, and the boy Kuroko admired and loved, fell.

"No!" Kuroko cried as he ran to Akashi's fallen body. He didn't care if the guards saw him. He didn't care what happened to him. All he cared about was the fire that lit up his world was dying.

Akashi coughed as Kuroko cradled his body, and he looked at Kuroko with resolute eyes. He knew he was dying, but even then, he had no fear. Kuroko wasn't even sure someone like Akashi could know such a weak emotion such as fear.

"Stay strong." Akashi said with a small smile, his eyes softening as they looked up at Kuroko who could only nod. His eyes teared up, but he refused to let them fall. He didn't want Akashi's last glance to be of his weakness.

So, he smiled. He forced his lips to turn upward, an action that had never been so hard before, and he tried to let the emotions he felt for Akashi to shine through his eyes. It was forced, they both knew it, but Akashi smiled back at him in return.

Hands suddenly grabbed them both, separating them even as Kuroko struggled to return to Akashi's dying side. He shouted Akashi's name over and over again, the redhead weakly struggling but easily overpowered.

Kuroko was tied up with rough ropes that hurt his sensitive skin, digging into his flesh before he was carried away. He kept fighting even then, trying to get to Akashi who was disappearing from view. He didn't want Akashi to die all alone, surrounded by enemies, but his wishes were unfulfilled.

A hard bloodstained sword smacked the back of his head cruelly, and everything went black.

When he awoke from dreams filled with red, he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by the kids of the slums, all tied just like him, despair and resignation in their eyes. Kuroko looked around and saw that they were in a dungeon of sorts.

Three dark stoned walls surrounded them, the entrance a barred wall with a single locked door. It was dark, the only source of light being a torch that was outside their cell, and there was a damp wet smell that permeated the room. There was also a disgusting rotting scent, but Kuroko didn't want to dwell on that.

There was a squeak, and Kuroko numbly watched as a large mangled rat ran past their cell. He slowly turned his eyes to the fire. A sorrow so sharp it pained him, stabbing him, as he remembered Akashi. His pillar of strength, the fire that lit his way through life, was dead, distinguished.

He curled up tighter, burying his face against his knees which he had brought up to his chest. He mourned for Akashi who had died surrounded by enemies, but at the same time, Kuroko couldn't think of a more fitting death. He had died fighting, died trying to protect everything dear to him.

Still, despite how valiantly Akashi had fought, he had lost. And thus, Kuroko's new unwanted life started.

Guards came in once a day to give them food, stale and mouldy; it was supposed to last them an entire day. People came and left, staring at them like they were a commodity, sometimes taking a child with them. It wasn't for a while that Kuroko realized that they were buyers, and he was a potential slave to be bought.

It didn't change anything. It didn't fill the empty void inside him. He merely watched with dull blue eyes as people continued to buy the children around him. He didn't think he would be bought. He was frail looking, even frailer than the kids around him.

Then, one day a middle aged man came in front of the cell. He was a man of high class, his clothing made of fine material. He had sharp brown eyes and slicked back black hair, a nose that resembled a bird's. He looked down at them, condescendingly, the cane he held tapping against the stone floor.

His eyes landed on Kuroko, judging his worth with only his eyes, the cigar in his mouth moving up and down as he chewed on it slightly. Kuroko could feel his beady eyes looking him over, taking in every little detail that the clothing Kuroko wore didn't hide.

"You'll do." The man said with a strict unkind tone, and those two words had the power to give Kuroko the freedom from the cell but not from the hellish life he was living.

No, he was brought into a new hell.

Just like Kuroko thought, the man, Mr. Dunsworth, was a high class man who lived in a large lavish manor that many would die to live in. The beauty was lost on Kuroko though. He didn't care for anything, even the beautiful paintings and statues that decorated the inside.

The man had held back no expense to make the mansion beautiful inside and out. It was everything different from the world Kuroko had grown up in, and Kuroko found himself wishing to be back in the slums. He didn't care for such riches. He didn't care to step into this world that he had no business being a part of.

The man forced him to enter a grand bedroom that, although Kuroko had nothing to compare it to, was huge. Inside, sitting by a large oaken desk, was a child even younger than Kuroko by several years. His hair was fashioned after his father's, his eyes a cold blue like water that had been frozen over.

He had a haughty sort of air about him, the spitting image of a boy too spoiled. Jack was his name, Jack Dunsworth, and Kuroko learned that he was to be the boy's personal slave. Ideally, he was supposed to clean after the boy, make sure he did his studies, and during his tutoring lesson, he was to clean around the manner.

It sounded like a simplistic job, but nothing was ever what it seemed.

Jack was a spoiled child, yes, but more than that, he was a boy who shouldered too many responsibilities on his shoulders. He was brought up to think he had to be perfect, to wear a mask of amiability, not allowed to show any of his true emotions.

The bottled emotions turned into inner rage in which he needed a release for and that release became Kuroko. He was beaten regularly by the boy, whipped until his back was raw, for every little reason the boy could make, even for non-existent reasons.

With every loud crack of the whip, for every bloody scar it made, Kuroko could feel himself breaking. Shattering like glass never to be made whole again.

Memories began leaving him, so consumed by present. Memories of his past only hurt him, shattered pieces of glass that cruelly cut him. So, he shoved them away into a corner of his mind, locking them away. Even memories... No, especially the memories of Akashi, were shut away.

Jack truly broke him, his eyes turning dull and blank like a doll's. Or rather, a puppet, with a puppeteer moving him about the house, making him do all his work for each day. He didn't bother trying to escape. He had nowhere to go nor did he have the strength. Time passed by, but Kuroko couldn't, wouldn't, keep track of how long he remained like this.

His body did grow though, his young boy body turning into that of a man. His body remained slender and lithe, years of little exercise and little food making it impossible to be anything else. He did grow taller though, even needing a new set of clothes to accommodate him, although he would always still be considered small. His voice changed a little as well, growing a little deeper, but he still spoke softly.

Even with the changes of his body though, he remained the same mentally: wandering the dark halls of the manor, at the beck and call of a spoiled sadistic child. Nothing would ever change, or at least, that's what he thought.

Then something happened. He had been going about his usual schedule, cleaning the entire house, when he passed by the kitchen. An acrid scent caught his nose, and Kuroko turned to see something on fire.

Instead of feeling panic or even the need to help, all he could do was stare at the brilliant flames that danced about. The pure red that reflected against his blue orbs revived something within him.

Akashi Seijuro.

The name that was buried in his mind came forth, and suddenly, Kuroko was alive once more. His eyes lit up with life that had all but disappeared. His body straightened with strength, fists clenched into fists, determination coloring his eyes.

Akashi might be dead, but Kuroko didn't want to die like this. No, when he joined Akashi, he wanted the same death as him, to die fighting. He wanted to die a death that Akashi would be proud of, so when they met again in the afterlife, he wouldn't bow his head in shame.

Kuroko bade his time though, not wanting to make it obvious. He waited until night, when Jack was eating supper with his parents, before his usual whippings. He stole away into the night, skillfully avoiding the guards Mr. Dunsworth had hired to protect the manor.

He had lived there for years now, even without meaning to, he had memorized their locations, which hallways they walked and at what time. Escaping was easy, almost too easy, but soon he was running through the town, panting heavily as he got farther and farther away.

There was no more slums, everyone had been slaughtered or caught like him. He had nowhere to go except to hide away in alleys, stealing when he could. He would survive for as long as he could with fire in his heart.

His freedom was short lived however.

Jack was a vindictive child, and he would not stand for one of his belongings to be free without punishment. He wouldn't accept Kuroko back of course, not now that he had a record of running away. Jack would get another slave to take Kuroko's place.

Still, he sent people to look for Kuroko, and after many days, they eventually found him in the darkest part of the dirtiest alley in the town. Kuroko struggled as much as his broken body could, biting and scratching strong arms but to no avail.

It was then he entered the worst hell on earth.

He was first blindfolded, his world turning dark with no light seeping through, turning him blind. It was scary, as much as Kuroko hated to admit it, to lose one of his senses as he entered the unknown.

Next, his wrists and ankles were shackled, a connecting chain between them, so he couldn't move very much. They metal was hard against his skin, and they were heavy, weighing his limbs down.

Then, a collar made with barbs was placed around his neck, the pain impossible to get used to. Every time he spoke, swallowed, did anything that meant moving his throat, the spikes dug into his sensitive skin cruelly. It was torture, just as it was meant to be.

He was thrown into a dungeon, mostly likely one made for criminals. He heard the creak of the barred door close, and Kuroko curled up, feeling the stone floor under his body. He didn't know what was worse, working for Jack, or this new hell.

When he had garnered the strength to move, Kuroko figured out through touch that this dungeon cell was different from the one he had been in before. Instead of stone walls surrounding him, there was only one stone wall from the side of the building; the cells were divided by bars instead.

There were also guards who made daily rounds of the dungeon, checking on them, making sure everything was as it should be. They gave him food once a day, and Kuroko would have to use his hands to reach out to find the small tray of mouldy food.

The man in the cell beside him kept moving, always moving, always shifting, and his chains always rattling. Even in his sleep the man moved, refusing to be still, refusing to give in, as if every shift of his limbs was a defiant act against the guards; he wouldn't submit.

Kuroko knew he plotted. Someone who was that defiant, that had so much willpower had to be plotting on how to escape. It wasn't impossible. Kuroko had heard of prisoners who had somehow managed to escape, never to be seen again.

Without being able to see the man, Kuroko somehow knew that if anyone could do it, it would be the man beside him.

It somehow gave him strength to keep trying as well. He hadn't planned to give up, the memory of Akashi kept him from doing so, but every shift he heard from the cell beside him goaded him on. He wanted to escape. He didn't know where he would go, but he didn't want to die like this. Akashi wouldn't have wanted him to die like this.

One day, Kuroko waited for the guards to leave, to go to another portion of the dungeon, before he tried to reach out to the man around him. The shifting sounded to be a little further than usual, meaning the man was as far from Kuroko's cell as he could be.

"Pl-" Kuroko coughed a little as the barbs dug into his neck just a little more. Still he didn't give up. "Please, I want to escape too."

The shifting and the clinking of chains stopped, the silence harsh, after days and days of hearing it. Then, it started up again, louder this time, coming closer to him as if the man was trying to reach him as fast as he could.

There was harsh breathing close to him, and Kuroko almost felt like moving away from the bars that separated him. But he stayed still, waiting for the man to make the first move.

"Tetsuya?" The voice was rough, broken, changed, but Kuroko recognized it. His world froze; he couldn't even breathe for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he was clutching the bars. His knuckles were white with the tightness of his hold, and he shook them, trying to break them. Tears streamed out of his eyes, the black material soaking them up.

"Akashi." Kuroko whispered, and it was the start of a chant of that singular word. He couldn't stop saying it, even if it meant pain from the collar. He heard his name escape the man beside him as well, and a chocked sob escaped his mouth. His fire was alive.

Their hands clutched each other's through the cold unforgiving bars of their jail, and they clutched onto each other. Kuroko couldn't help but chuckle through his soft sobs. Of course, he would find the strongest fire in existence to be in the darkest depth of hell.

"How..?" Kuroko whispered desperately. "You were so wounded..."

"They saved me, thought they could use me. A war is brewing between this kingdom and the Seirin kingdom. They need soldiers. They thought they could break me, use me." It was more than Kuroko had ever heard Akashi say, and he drank in the words, revelled in Akashi's rough cracking voice that grew in strength.

"I was bought as a slave, but I escaped, and they threw me in here." Kuroko whispered, and the hands that clutched his own tightened.

"Tetsuya..." Akashi whispered his name like it was a treasure, and then, they were kissing, their faces pressed against the hard bars. It wasn't nearly enough for Kuroko, they couldn't kiss deep enough, couldn't touch each other's grown bodies. It was liberating as it was frustrating.

"Akashi..." Kuroko whispered, sagging against the bars, wishing he could go through them.

"We'll get out of here. I'll get us out." Akashi said resolutely, and just like when they were kids, Kuroko believed him when no proof was to be found. They kept holding each other's hands, only ever letting go when they had to eat.

Even when they slept, they held hands, leaning against the bars, so their body heat melded together, warming each other up against the cold of the dungeon. Days went by slowly as Akashi and Kuroko plotted, memorizing when the guards passed by.

However, time ran out. Apparently, Kuroko's sentence wasn't for life; it had only been temporary to teach him a lesson. One day, guards entered his cell and began to drag him away despite his pleas to stay. He struggled and fought, reaching out to Akashi even though he couldn't see, but they managed to get him out of his cell even when he tried clinging to the bars.

It was then that the fire that had always seemed too bright to be contained in a single body erupted. A roar of rage left Akashi's lips, the sound making a shiver run down the spines of anyone who heard. It was a sound that promised bloodshed and death. It was the sound of a monster being born.

The guards who held Kuroko loosened their grip, and it was enough for him to grab the keys from the hip of one of them. He didn't bother with his own shackles. No, he threw it towards the sounds of absolute animistic rage.

The guards rushed forward, Kuroko falling on the ground as they pushed him in their haste. He could hear the clinking of chains before he heard the loud chime of metal hitting the ground. The monster was free, and Kuroko couldn't help but smile with mirth.

There was shouting as the guards tried to stop him from poking the keys into the keyhole, but in the end, the monster overpowered them. There was a creak of the cell doors opening, and then, there were screams.

Somehow, Akashi had managed to grab a sword from a guard and loud, deafening, clangs permeated the air followed by wet squelching noises and screams. Sounds of bodies hitting the floor reached Kuroko's ears, and he couldn't bring himself to feel regret or guilt. No. Those sounds promised freedom, and he couldn't regret that.

Then, there was silence that was so deafening after the loud noises that it almost hurt. Soft footsteps padded towards him, and Kuroko sat up, turning his face in the direction of the sound. Sure hands unlocked Kuroko's shackles which clattered heavily against the ground.

Then, the collar was taken off his neck, barbs leaving the holes they had dug into his neck, blood leaking out. It should have made him relieved, but all he felt was anticipation as he felt hands begin to untie his blindfold.

Finally, his world that had been so dark was filled with light once more. But, the dim yellow light that lit up the dungeon was nothing compared to the light in Akashi's eyes. The eyes that Kuroko believed he had would never see again.

He had changed over the years as well, grown taller, but unlike Kuroko, he hadn't lived in a home. He had been in a dungeon all this time, and it had taken a toll on his body. He was horribly thin, his skin a sickly pale, his cheeks gaunt. He should have been the picture of weakness.

But, all Kuroko could see was strength in Akashi's eyes: a fire that could never be doused.

"Let's go." Akashi said with a voice that was rough and cracked due to disuse. Kuroko nodded and took Akashi's hand, nearly tearing up at the simple touch. Then they ran.

It hadn't been easy, Akashi was considerably weak now, but he still had some strength from moving around all those years, not wanting all his muscles to disintegrate from disuse. They managed to either sneak or kill any guards that they came across.

Soon, they were running through the town with bare feet, the darkness of early morning shielding them. Akashi had discarded the sword, so they wouldn't attract as much attention. Nobody stopped them as they used the alleys.

"Where will we go?" Kuroko asked when they finally reached the outskirts of town, the cemetery of their old home. Akashi didn't answer for a while, his eyes on the horizon as if waiting for something. Kuroko looked at him in confusion and looked where Akashi was looking, his eyes widening when he saw the sun beginning to rise.

As the shining orb began to rise, lighting the sky aglow, Kuroko leaned against Akashi heavily, the redhead supporting him easily. It was a symbol that they were almost free. Kuroko had never felt so alive.

They both turned to each other at the same time, and they were kissing once more, no bars to get in their way. Akashi hands forced Kuroko's body against his, gripping him tightly as he dominated Kuroko, tasting him, consumed him.

Kuroko kissed back with equal tenacity, his hands also wrapping around Akashi, silently promising never to let go. They wouldn't be separated again, not this time. They were free, and neither of them would allow themselves to be captured again; he swore it over the sun that shone over them.

"We'll go to Seirin. We will somehow make a life there." Akashi said resolutely after long moments of getting reacquainted with each other's body. Kuroko nodded, taking Akashi's hand, and they took their first step into the next unknown.


End file.
